Villains Victorious
by hoheehum
Summary: discontinued


**A/N:** The Eagles lost. Unfortunately for him, Tseng gets to feel my wrath. And I HATE football. But Donovan McNabb is such a great guy, and it's just… it's just CONTAGIOUS! So go ahead and read into the conflict of this short. I'm smoldering. Be afraid. Be very afraid.

**Disclaimer:** Don't mess with me tonight, Square.

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**Villains Victorious **

By hoheehum

A crisp blue suit that feels like a titanium shield when I'm surrounding by twenty crowbar-wielding thugs suddenly leaves me feeling naked.

I can hear Reno shifting uncomfortably behind me, can almost see Rude's angry frown, but their understanding isn't relieving- I'd rather they just weren't here.

I can't look at the President. It's too humiliating. Instead I keep my eyes locked on the sky outside the window, and wish again that it was bright and blue, so that there was something to look at that didn't remind meof my misery.

"…like this is intolerable," continues Heidegger. "If I expected you to run the Turks like your miserable little tar-head friends fought the war, I'd've rented one of ye's _without_ a fucking dot on 'is head!"

It's been a long time since I've been that insulted, a long time since I've had someone who knows my buttons press them, all at once. And I can feel my shoulders, like hackles, rise without my permission, and I can't force them back down, and I know everyone sees it, and _dammit, I want to put a hole in something_.

I almost flinch when one of his massive hands grips my chin and forces me to look at him, his fat little face pulled into an overwhelmingly gleeful sneer, and I can tell he's wanted to do this to me for a long time. He can feel me trembling with rage, but doesn't say anything about it. He'll wait to use that when he needs something else to throw in my face. He's an idiot, but he knows how to humiliate a man.

Out of the corner of my eye I spot Scarlet smirking, and I feel that if she laughs I just might snap. Palmer has his hammy little hands clasped in anticipation of what I assume is going to be some kind of grand finale. The President looks amused, and I catch his expectant glance at Rufus. Everyone knows the boy shouldn't be here- his presence for my berating is inappropriate. But then, I should be alone with Heidegger right now anyway.

Rufus, who grew up under my protection and, though he's not allowed to admit it, respects me, looks baffled as to what he should say or do. I know Heidegger will be absolutely thrilled if the boy starts to talk, and if he remains silent it will be generally understood that I am somehow indebted to the child for sparing me further disgrace.

Reeve sits quietly, looking preoccupied with some papers in front of him, for which I _am_ thankful, and beside him, Highwind appears to be going over some schematics. I can tell from the shifting green glow to my right that Sephiroth wants to storm out- and probably rip the door off its hinges in the process -but he's just as likely to receive this kind of treatment as I.

I can appreciate, however, the fact that Hojo is not present.

Heidegger, seeing my eyes trained on the sky again, grips my chin a second time, and this time I take the bait and snap my eyes onto his, silently transferring all of my fury to him in that moment in the form of one solid, painful wave. And behind his thick black shaggy beard, he smiles.

"Look at me," he intones, his voice no less harsh for his grin. "Or are you not man enough to?" Finally, a comment I can take. Not that it's any help, at this point. "You Wutaians are all the same." He makes a show of sniffing at me, and says, "Drinking on the job again, I see? Not surprising. You know, we could have kept this between the two of us, but you just couldn't take my advice, could you?"

Reno stirs, and I feel a moment of panic as I realize he's going to speak.

"Hey, fu-"

"Reno!" I snapped. Heidegger's eyes widen in delight at the sound of my accent slipping. There is a tense pause, and the smell of Reno's wrath and guilt mixing at my back.

"You can't even keep control of the rabble we give you. If you weren't so incompetent, we would probably give you some worthwhile little henchmen, you know." Another tiny grin, and he turns to look at the President. "You know, maybe we should give him to Hojo. I hear he has a way of taming even the rowdiest of Turks." Several heads jerk, my own not among them thanks to my trembling, but I can finally feel my shoulders drop again, not, unfortunately, in calm, but in the shrinking slope of fear. Hojo, indeed. "How would you like that, eh, Wutaian?" Another brief pause, and his beady eyes slit happily. "Well? Aren't you going to _answer_ me?"

I want to hurt him. _Leviathan_ _do I want to hurt him_.

Suddenly, at that thought, my anger gives way to exhaustion, and I can feel my whole body relaxing as my eyes at last drop to the floor. I can't take it, and it's clear he'll keep at me all day if he has to. _I haven't thought the name of my serpent-god- _the_ serpent-god in years_. Not since before this mark was burned into my forehead.

"Yes, sir." My accent. Why won't it go away? "That is not necessary, sir."

"Hmm." Heidegger appears to be thinking it over. "Well, fine. But you owe me one."

"Yes, sir."

"Dismissed, Tseng."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

I push past Reno and Rude, ignoring their concerned looks and not caring if they fall into step behind me. And as the door slides shut behind us, I hear the President ask, "Now what did you learn today, Rufus?"

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A/N: I know the summary says "Round One" but I don't know if this is actually going to be a multi part.


End file.
